So, I recently unearthed a partially completed manuscript, abandoned a number of years ago. It was the last manuscript I wrote by hand, which would explain why it survived the tragic deaths of two laptops which perished during that time, taking other half-baked ideas with them. (I really must learn from my mistakes and save back-up copies.)
I know enough now to realize that the story would never survive the publishing world of today. The protagonist is entirely too contented, the setting too picturesque, and I have a feeling that ragged-yet-cheerful gypsies with hurdy-gurdys and hearts of gold are on their way out as popular characters. It makes absolutely no sense to finish it, and no doubt that's why I abandoned it at the time... but there's something in it, a freshness and innocence, that I can't help wanting to recapture, and I think the characters are impatient with me for not finishing their stories. I may have to complete it anyway, if only for its own sake. And you never know...
I did recently stumble across a novel at the dollar store, which manages to smash together about five genres somehow, as well as ripping off the plots of at least three popular novels at once, with healthy doses of time-travel, sex, kilts, and rock 'n' roll, not to mention poor writing. Yes, I might be a little bitter, but somebody published it! Yes, it was at the dollar store, but first somebody had to read it and think, "This is good stuff. Let's print it!"
So perhaps it means there is hope for me after all. Or it means I shall have to resort to writing bodice-rippers to pay the bills. Or I shall keep my dignity and work at Flowery Trail until I die.